


Dreams

by Arlyshawk



Series: Enasalin [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4250856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlyshawk/pseuds/Arlyshawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naerys dreams of the Old Gods still slumbering and cannot sleep. Loghain eases her mind when nothing else can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

An Old God lifts it's great, angular head to peer at her with curious lantern eyes. Its blacker than sin with spikes that race down the length of its spine to the tip of it s curled tail. It blinks at her and tips its head as though it was listening to for a tune before lifting its head and letting a sweet song of its own. It thrums in her ears like peals of thunder that are too close and shake the foundations of the earth off of its scale. Tears come to her eyes as the Archdemon rumbles in its throat and spreads its great wings in the dark caverns of the Deep Roads while whispers curl their sinuous fingers around her mind, plucking its strings. It wants her, one moment it drips with lust and desire, the next she hears a mother pining for her child and she shakes her head. No! She does not want to leave now! Not now! Never! She has a life to live. If it's one thing she did not want, it was the Calling. She has to live. She has a grandson now! She has a man that loves her, after so long! Please! Andraste, Elgar'nan, any god that dare listen! 

Naerys awakes suddenly to the shrill whine of Bear in her ear. In the dark, she can dimly see the glimmer of her old dog's sweet, brown eyes and the outline of the slope of her lover's broad shoulders and the rise and fall of his breathing. Her nightshirt clings to her and her thick hair is damp with sweat. She touches Bear's head, scratching the mabari's lopsided ears and then underneath her jowls. For a moment, she wonders if Bear being between them will upset Loghain, but then she realizes that with the way he sleeps, he would never know. 

She curls on her side, Bear's head at her belly, and strokes the bridge of her dog's nose. The dreams of the Archdemon that have not yet turned come more and more frequently. They are the same Old God, the one that is black and not purple like Urthemiel. She wishes it were Urthemiel… Creators, she would give whatever she could to stop these dreams. And she dares not tell Loghain of these dreams. They will worry him, that or he will open his mouth and say something that she will hate. 

"Bear, foot of the bed," Comes the grumble from the other side of the bed. She has been wrong before… The mabari whines and she can hear the distinct growl of her beloved Ferelden warrior that speaks far more than any command could for Bear, and she smiles to herself. He never grows dull for her and she loves that about him. Her mabari stands and pads back to the foot of the bed and lies down in a huff. A callused hand touches hers and she jumps, "You're awake." 

"And so are you," Naerys replies with a false smirk, though he cannot see it. "Whatever are you doing up, my old dog?" 

His hand goes up her arm to the damp coil of her hair, "What happened to you?" 

"It's nothing," She tries to pass it off as though it truly _is_ nothing, even though it is the farthest from all right in her book. "It was a dream." 

"It was far from it. I know you too well now," Loghain gives her hand a pull and she scoots over to curl on his chest. She splays a hand on his chest and presses her face against his nightshirt that smells of him, of home. He smells of the cologne Zevran found for him nearly a decade ago that smelled of rich Antivan spices. "What was it?" 

"Old God," She tells him, knowing that lying will do her no good. "It was a big black one, it started singing again." 

"It's not the Calling, is it?" There is concern in his voice and it makes her heart clench. The thought of the Calling terrifies the both of them. Perhaps too much, she thinks as she reaches up and runs her fingers over the hard line of his jaw. "Naerys, tell… Put an ease to my mind, please." 

"If it were, I think I might be hearing the same song in my waking hours. But that has yet to happen," She shifts up to kiss the other side of his jaw. "I will tell you when that time comes." 

His fingers play across the dip of her waist and flare of her hip and she chuckles quietly. His touch is gentle, like he is touching a baby bird instead of her. It curves over her scars he knows that lie on her back and up the length of her spine, where a few of her disks radiate pain with the slightest wrong move on a sour day, and they finally come to rest playing with the tail of her braid. 

And though he never tells her, the kiss he drops into her hair tells far more to her than a word could spell. His love does not come from words, it comes from actions, it comes from his hands and his heart. And she would not have it any other way. 


End file.
